Sarah Ann Winter

Sarah Ann Winter

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep By Mary Elizabeth Frye Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die. Sarah Ann Winter was a loving young mother taken too young in a fatal car crash. Sarah leaves behind her 7-month-old son Darryl, and the love of her life Mark. Sarah also departs before her loving father and her devoted grandmother. Sarah is loved and missed by her mother, stepparents, brothers, sisters, and their spouses and extended family, all her Aunts, Uncles and cousins, and so many other relatives from Mark’s family, and too many friends to name. Sarah was a fun, imaginative and independent spirit who had a sunny attitude and would make friends easily. Sarah volunteered at the Fruitland food bank, had volunteered with disabled seniors at an adult daycare in Spokane, and worked at Buena Vista Healthcare in Colville for a short time while awaiting the birth of her son. Sarah had a way of getting through all of life’s troubles despite any challenges she had. She was devoted to her son and in her death protected him more than herself. A celebration of life is planned for the future and anyone wishing to make donations to help provide for her young son, assist with expenses, and make repairs to her small house may send them in care of: R Winter, P.O Box 339, Mead, WA, 99021
February 13, 1997 - May 27, 202002/13/199705/27/2020
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Obituary

Do Not Stand at My Grave and WeepBy Mary Elizabeth FryeDo not stand at my grave and weepI am not there; I do not sleep.I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow,I am the sun on ripened grain,I am the gentle autumn rain.When you awaken in the morning’s hushI am the swift uplifting rushOf quiet birds in circled flight.I am the soft stars that shine at night.Do not stand at my grave and cry,I am not there; I did not die.Sarah Ann Winter was a loving young mother taken to...

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